Living with a Host Family in Turkey

Whenever I talk about Turkey, to anyone, I mention my family there. And then they say "oh, you're Turkish?" and I have to explain why I have family in a country that I don't (think I) originate from. No, not by blood, I explain, but there are two little families that took me in and I do love them (a lot) and they’ve shared my life for the past four months, almost every day. I can only hope that I have given them as much as they’ve given me. Who am I kidding, there’s no way I could repay Aysegul and Mehmet for bringing me into their home and letting me pretend I’m teaching English to their two adorable children, Zeynep and Ali, when they were all teaching me the whole time. I know I said two families, but I'll explain a little later--bear with me. 

Not only has my Turkish somewhat improved (sorry everyone, definitely not fluent), but these kids have definitely added a positive note to every single day I’ve been living with them. They’ve taught me things only children can: to not take yourself too seriously, to dance whenever possible, and to be silly whenever possible. They’ve single-handedly added some great bullet points to my life philosophy. 

Also, fun fact that no one tells you: you suck at cooking. Think you’re a good cook? Do you live in a dorm/house with no spices and three recipes? You suck. The first night I had a home cooked meal with my Turkish family was the best meal I had had in months. Restaurants are fine, yes, but nothing compares to the taste of a home-cooked Turkish meal made by a Mom with love, spices, and years of experience.

These are the two most obvious rewards for me, but on a broader, harder to put into words sort of reward: just being in a family. Going to pick up the kids from school, helping with homework, watching movies together, eating dinner together, going to the park, tagging along to go shopping, to English lessons, to piano classes…all these things have showed me what life in Istanbul is like for real people.

On top of all this, Aysegul is basically the most connected person in the whole of Istanbul, so when her friends wanted to test out having an au pair for one month: I was lent to another family. I know this sounds strange, and it was, but the opportunity to get to know and play with two more great kids (Nisan and Guney) and see what another “normal Turkish family” looks like on the inside.

These families have been so much more welcoming than I could’ve ever expected them to be, and they’ve given me a whole life outside of my university bubble in which I lived last semester. I’ve had the opportunity to not only get to know these lovely people, but also their extended families, their friends, their neighbors, and how they feel about their life here. I cannot possibly thank Erdem, Aysen, Aysegul, or Mehmet for everything they’ve done by welcoming me into their homes and letting me bother their children (Guney, Nisan, Zeynep, and Ali), but as I reflect on my time in Turkey after my return to the USA I can only hope they know they all have special places in my heart as my Turkish families. I can never repay them for all I’ve gained from them: both in experience, knowledge, and love. I will be forever indebted to them for their endless generosity and kindness.

Thank you all, and I know I will see you again.

Things I Take for Granted In/Out of Turkey

What I Take for Granted Outside of Turkey
     1. Ethnic food (Thai, Chinese, Korean, Mexican…etc.)
     2. Rules of the Road
     3. Well-marked streets
     4. People not caring what I’m wearing
     5. People being able to understand me when I need something/anything without effort
     6. People of varying genders on the street around me
     7. Free stuff/food given out at my university
     8. Being able to drive (Not that I feel capable of driving here, see 2&3)
     9. Escaping other human beings sometimes
   10. People walking and queuing in uniform/orderly ways

What I Take for Granted Inside Turkey
     1. Everyone caring about your well-being after you've met once (genuinely)
     2. The ability to get anything delivered to your home or taken from your home for fixin’
       - Clarification on the taking part: if you shoe is broken your building manager will come get         it, take it to a cobbler for you, and the cobbler will shine and fix your shoe for a minuscule fee,           then the building manager will bring your shoes to you
     3. Street food of all varieties
     4. Sweet food in all varieties
     5. The Plethora of Public Transport (buses, ferries, taxies, dolmus, metro, tram…)
     6. Cheap, easy inter-city and international travel by bus to basically anywhere you want
     7. Finding joy in expressing yourself in a language you don’t really know
     8. Kisses on the cheek at greeting, at leaving (and double hugs)
     9. Markets where in-season vegetables can be haggled over next to knock-off Nike*
    10. My Turkish families which brightened my day each and every day










*Alleged fake, which can also be haggled down in price

An Open Letter to Scared Travellers

First of all, I totally understand. Even the simplest trip, so much can go wrong.

As I settle into my second exchange year, and become more accustomed to travelling, I get a similar question all the time, for different reasons, but from countless people. "Aren't you scared?"

Of course I am.

And that's what's great.

I have no idea what's going on most of the time. I'm in an unfamiliar culture. What if I lose my passport? What if I get robbed? What if people are mean? What if I get lost? What if..what if..what if? Those are the common, mostly global fears. There's also a second kind of fear, and this stems from the region I'm currently studying in. I'm presently in Istanbul, Turkey, and if you've seen the news, some of you may think I'm in some danger being here. But, so are you. Every day. Sitting at home. Driving to work. Sitting in class. I know it sucks to say, but something bad can happen anywhere.

This reasoning is how I try to explain to skeptics how I step past my fear and try to see as much of the world as possible. I received this advice from a colleague before I left, and I've clung to it. I stand by it. This reasoning, along with another tried and true saying you might've heard: "life begins outside your comfort zone." And oh, how it's true. It's like you're standing on the edge of a cliff, and all you have to do is jump. Dig into your feelings of fear, test them. I've travelled alone a lot now, and I still get worried showing up in another country unattended, but so far I've had nothing to worry about. However, each time I go, I still get worried...and I still go.

The same conclusion can be brought about both kinds of fear. Don't let it stop you. Don't let anything or anyone stop you. I would rather get lost every day for the rest of my life, than feel stable. I learn more, I see more, and I'm humbled by every experience.

Yes, humbled. As if this couldn't be filled with more cliches, I've got to throw another one in. As a person from the United States, I was unconsciously scared of the rest of the world. It was far, it was different, and it was...well, foreign. The food was different, the language was different, the culture was different; oh, the horror. We always think that people are fundamentally different, insurmountably different if we leave the place we know. But, people are people. In every country. People have families. People have problems, jobs, friends, pets, homework, a favorite coffee shop...most of the fear I mentioned above negates all of this. And by breaking through that barrier to learn that the line you've drawn in your mind between you and the rest of the world is total crap, well, it makes it easier to do again and again, for the rest of your life (which, is kind of my plan).

Basically, I get your fear. Every bit of it. Now smash it to bits and get on that plane.

The Strays of Istanbul

I admit that I didn't know what to expect when I went to Turkey. I had few concrete expectations, but the one thing that struck me immediately as we travelled through the city was the remarkable amount of stray cats and dogs wandering around the streets. On Maui, strays are common enough but I'd never seen them so prevalent in a city before.

In Istanbul, strays are everywhere. Whether it was the backstreets of Fener or the crowded walkways of Sultanahmet, there were huge dogs sleeping in the grass or on the cement (usually in the middle of the walkway) or wandering around in small packs begging for food. There were whole colonies of street cats picking through garbage or waiting outside of restaurants. They must eat well as most of the strays were fat and bowls of food and fresh water were laid out for them everywhere. (A Turkish woman told me that it would be a great shame to see a starving dog right outside a thriving restaurant.)

Perhaps most amazing, though, was how tame they were. I never saw any of the huge mutts growl or even bark at anyone or anything. They were lazy things for the most part, spending the majority of their time sleeping or leisurely marking their territory. When they wanted food, they'd follow you around and stare at you innocently with their big brown eyes. When we were touring one of the Prince's Islands, three dogs followed us through our entire walking tour, bullying cats out of our path as we went. (We named the leader of the pack Ismet after Prime Minister Ismet Inonu, whose house we were viewing on the island.) But I never felt endangered by them. The dogs all have tags, which signal that they've been spayed/neutered and given all their shots by animal control. The population is, from a logistical standpoint, under control.

The cats, on the other hand, are much harder for the authorities to keep track of. Litters of tiny kittens were everywhere, living in cardboard boxes and on first-story balconies, picking through trash and falling asleep on street vendors' pashminas. (I never saw a Turkish shopkeeper kick them out though; I even saw one particularly fluffy tabby completely claim ownership over a valuable Baroque-style armchair in an antique shop.) There was a sleek, white and muscular cat that picked through the garbage at the dorm that I called Scar after the huge, pink and scabby slash across his back and the smaller one across his face. There was also a particularly friendly calico called Elif, who loved hanging out in the dorm's lobby and keeping the security guards company. (She even tried to follow students into the elevator. "Wait for me, guys!") Then there was Elif's son, Julio, who was a sweet kitten with green eyes that the guards utterly spoiled with Turkish deli meat and shredded chicken. (They even took him to the vet when he got sick.) On the way to school, I always passed a black cat who took up residence beside the door of a restaurant called "The Fish and the Kebab." I named him Balik, after the Turkish word for "fish" and he would always try to play with me when I passed by.

All these strays were definitely not at all what I would have expected to find in Istanbul, but they've made the city feel a lot more like home.